


All That Matters (And More)

by xikra1648



Series: There's Nothing Holding Me Back [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Literally the same as 'All That Matters', Porn With Plot, Smut, dirty version...though it could be dirtier, just with smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 21:31:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12176934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: You didn't know what Akira's problem was, but it had to stop. You planned on just talking with him, clearing the air or at least finding a way to work with each other without dragging the team down.Things did not go as you planned...Literally the same as 'All That Matters,' just with smut.





	All That Matters (And More)

**Author's Note:**

> Persona 5 is a damn tease. All that time working out to get stat buffs and then Akira takes his shirt off to work out. I was so happy, I actually fangirl squealed and I haven’t done that since high school, all you need to know is that was over five years ago, and then he worked out twice and the game said, ‘no more stat buffs for working out at home.’ So now I gotta spend my money (I have a few million now that I’m on my second New Game + but shush) to, what, watch bae work out with his clothes on?
> 
> Goddamn tease.
> 
> I would also like to warn you that this does not mean, at all, that the series, heartbreak, or overall drama is over. This is basically the beginning of the climax, from here it becomes far more heartbreaking and dramatic, just like every other romance in media the leading lad and lady hooking up is just to get you all excited before things go to hell and you start crying.
> 
> So, on one hand, I’m sorry. On the other hand this is part of the plan and I’ve had a few Bloody Mary’s so…I’m kind of not? Anywho, this is the smut version of 'All That Matters.'

# There's Nothing Holding Me Back

### All That Matters (And More)

After the fall of Madarame’s palace it was time for a break.  It would be a nerve racking break for the next two weeks, seeing as you had managed to steal the treasure _well_ ahead of schedule and now had to wait for a change, but that was all you could do for now.

Akira had called for a night off, seeing as the trip to Mementos the day before involved a grand total of five requests and reaching a sealed door that wouldn’t allow the team to pass any further.  After checking with Ryuji that the team leader didn’t have any plans, the speed of which those two became best friends was almost frightening, you made your way to your gymnastics practice, planning on taking an admittedly long detour home to speak with Akira in his room above Leblanc.  You said ‘hi’ to Boss as he closed up, reassuring him you were there to see Akira and not for coffee, before making your way to the attic.

You knew you were a mess after your workout, still dressed in your skin-tight black leggings and violet tank-top, you had thrown on a button-up cardigan for some semblance of modesty but wore nothing but ballet flats for shoes.  Your long hair was still in the atrociously messy bun you threw it into, strands falling along your neck and around your face, and you didn’t want to even think about how your makeup looked.  You hadn’t thought anything about it, not seeking to impress the boy, until you found him hanging by his knees from one of the rafters, his shirt and glasses gone as he did crunch after crunch, a light sheen of sweat on his skin.

Now wonder he seemed like he was in such great shape…he wasn’t a muscular giant but he was definitely cut.

**_Stop, stop, stop!_ **

“Akira, we gotta talk,” you announced your presence, though you expected Akira already knew you were there.  He grabbed the edge of the rafter before easily flipping down and landing on his feet.

“Morgana, go take a walk.  This could take a while,” he spoke calmly, but there was no denying he was giving the strange talking cat an order.  While you could easily argue with Joker in the Metaverse, there was no arguing with Akira in the real world.  

It was an amazing duality between Akira and Joker, even though you _knew_ they were the same person.  You had seen Joker’s eyes soften in mercy and kindness, and Akira’s eyes harden with a cold and calculated anger, which in itself was a contradiction.  While his mere presence demanded respect, and even _obedience_ in the Metaverse, he never carried himself as anything other than a 16-year-old boy that was going to, lackadaisically, make the best of the unusually hard life he was given.  He could give orders in the Metaverse that would be ignored for one reason or another, and unless it resulted in botching the heist or putting someone in danger Joker just shot an angry look and moved on.  _Akira_ , on the other hand…you didn’t argue with Akira when he made a demand, for the simple fact that he _never made them._   While Joker was an open book…Akira was still a mystery and potentially a ticking time bomb.

With a whine, Morgana leapt down from where he was seated on the rafter, stopping to say _hi_ to you, and taking his exit through the open window and down the tree outside the shop.  Your eyes stuck on the boy grabbing the t-shirt you suspected he had been wearing and using it to wipe at the sweat on his brow before leaning back against the table on which his television was placed, his arms crossed in front of his firm chest.  You stepped away from the stairs, placing your bag next to Akira’s on the table by the stairs before leaning back against it, your hands clutching at the edges to keep yourself grounded.

“It’s hard not to miss the fact we’ve been arguing more lately, and it’s starting to mess with the team,” you explained, leaning back as your shoulders shrugged upwards in an uncharacteristic show of nerves.  What the hell was it about this boy that did this to you?  You were a strong young woman, at least you had spent years making sure everyone else saw you as such, so how was it he was able to just break through the walls and see the shy teenage girl inside?

“Stop being so damn difficult and we won’t have a problem,” Akira retorted, grabbing his gray t-shirt and black sweatshirt.  He was normally calm, collected, even if some smartass comment slipped through nobody would know better unless they knew him, or had a reason to be suspicious of him.  But you…you just shot right past years of getting himself under control and straight to the heart of the beast within.

“ _Me?_ ” you snapped, “You’re the one that gets bitchy every time I try to help!”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?  Helping?” Akira questioned critically, raising a brow as he stared you down with those cool gray eyes.

“If it weren’t for me we never would have made it through that painting puzzle in Madarame’s palace!” you snapped.  It was partially true, though Yusuke could have easily deciphered the puzzle he wasn’t speaking up as you wandered through the distorted and gaudy workings of Madarame’s heart.  You were going to let Joker handle it, at first, before you noticed that art wasn’t exactly his specialty.  A bit ironic, considering he was the leader of the Phantom Thieves, but you supposed studying and stealing art were two wildly different things.  Still, he needed help and you were, apparently, the only one who was going to do anything about it.

You clearly hit a nerve, as you saw the irritation flicker through Akira’s eyes and his jaw tightened before it all slipped away.  He just let it out with a long and quiet sigh as he stepped across the wood floor of the attic he lived in and walked towards you.  He was standing so close to you and for a second you wondered just _what_ his intention was, Akira was a wild card after all, until he tossed his shirt and jacket with the rest of his laundry in the small basket sitting on the ledge behind the table you were leaning against.  He attempted to protest, to argue, to save face, but you cut him off before he could even finish.

“I would have figured it-“

“Taking random guesses and getting us lost isn’t figuring it out.  It’s just some egotistical jackass getting us killed because he’s too proud to admit he needs help.”

You had just hit Akira’s _last_ nerve.  His day started out with the Student Council President tracking him down in the subway and claiming he was ‘lying low,’ which of course he was, he was on _probation_ for fuck’s sake, then he got dragged into being the victim of yet another one of Takemi’s _questionable_ tests and had felt on-edge since he _woke up.  H_ e had been trying to work off the adrenaline high by working out, and then _you_ came along… 

 _You_. 

He could brush off everything that anyone said, or even did, except for _you._   You just slipped right to his core and everything about you struck him, and he had yet to decide if it was good or bad.  His entire life he had been able to keep his distance and keep people from getting close, even his own parents, but you just…

Akira placed a hand on the table, so close to where you were clutching the edge of the table, and you were forced to look up as he stood upright.  That look in his eyes as his gray eyes stared into yours, you could only describe it as _predatory_.

“Or maybe it’s just some little know-it-all that thinks she can get away with being a pain my ass because she’s cute.”

The direction the conversation took was an unexpected one, for starters you hadn’t expected him to outwardly admit he thought you were cute.  You had no idea how it happened, everything just snapped and… _happened._   Akira was positively _demanding_ in his kiss, slipping your sweater off and tossing it somewhere before you even knew what happened, and while you made an attempt to fight back, it was a poor one as you tangled your hands in Akira’s hair.  His calloused and deft hands moved from the table behind you to your waist, and one trailed down to your bottom to give it a squeeze.  You let out a soft moan and relaxed, letting Akira catch you off guard by picking you up to place you on the table behind you.

He was too good at this to be _new_ at it, though if your suspicions of him were right you wouldn’t be surprised if he had _some_ experience.  He was an attractive young man, even girls who fell for that daft rumor he was a homicidal maniac giggled if he said so much as ‘hi’ to them, and his writing and gift for language had even Miss Chouno swooning at times, and there was-admittedly circumstantial-evidence that he was on the Soccer team in his last school…

Grasping your thighs, he hoisted you up, you naturally wrapped your legs around his waist, and carried you over to his bed, depositing you onto the mattress and pinning you there.  You couldn’t even bother to care if he left marks or if you made noise, the way he bit and sucked at your neck and collarbone was far better than you ever thought it would be.

All thoughts, all consideration, all _logic_ left your mind.  Suddenly your visit wasn’t about the team, you couldn’t even remember what brought you and Akira together in the first place.  You didn’t even care if it led to anything, all thoughts of it being your first time being thrown out the window as you just _knew_ you wouldn’t regret _the_ Phantom Thief stealing your innocence.

All that mattered was you and him.

“No, marks,” you ordered, between gasps of pleasure and throwing your head back to give Akira access to your neck.  As much as you didn't care, personally, you knew there were people who _would_.  That was something you didn't want to deal with.

To _you_ it was an order.  To _Akira_ it was more of a _suggestion._

A suggestion he promptly _ignored_

In order to even the odds, Akira slipped his hands under your violet tank and moved his hands up towards your bra, taking the tank top with them.  Akira pulled back and admired you, already enjoying the sight of you with your eyes glazed over and your lips swollen, your tank pushed up to the underwire of your bra as you caught your breath.  His own eyes glazed over, his pupils dilating to the point you could only, just _barely_ , make out the ring of gray around them, as a lazy but _wicked_ smirk graced his lips.

He pushed your tank top up, your arms rising up as he pulled it off of you completely before tossing it somewhere within the room.  Your arms landed back on the bed, your hands by your head, and you noticed the way Akira was looking at you-he was _memorizing_ you-causing you to shut your eyes and look away.  Just as you broke eye-contact, Akira swooped down and pressed his lightly chapped lips against your own, just as soft as they looked, as he teasingly trailed his fingers along the hem of your bra before reaching the back.  With the same deftness that picked so many locks, he picked the clasp of your bra and pulled the contraption off of you before tossing it to the side-you never noticed until he teasingly flicked his thumb over one of your nipples and caused you to jump at the surprising, but pleasurable, sensation.

He chuckled against your lips before pulling back only to whisper against your lips, “You’re just so _fucking_ perfect, and you still found your way right here.”

It wasn’t ire or distaste in his voice as he teased you, but you couldn’t put a name to the emotion behind Akira’s words.  What you did know was it sent sparks through your nerves as he continued to flick and tweak at your nipples as you reached up to grab his hair and pull him down for another heated kiss.  Arching your back into Akira’s ministrations, you felt yourself becoming more and more aroused than you already were when Akira first cornered you between him and that table.  He pulled away from you as you threw your head back to let out a high-pitched moan, which quickly turned into a gasp as Akira replaced one of his hands with his mouth.

You didn’t know what to focus on anymore, Akira’s hot mouth and hand on your breasts, or his free hand trailing its way down your torso and to the waist of your black yoga pants.  While you didn’t mind the fact that he slipped you out of your yoga pants, leaving you in your bright blue panties, you felt things were getting a bit one-sided.  You placed your hands onto Akira’s shoulders, smirking yourself when you felt him groan as you left a light trail of scratches from his shoulders, down his chest and torso, and to the waist of his black sweats.  With a chuckle, amused at your antics, Akira moved back to shed his remaining clothes-but he _was_ sure to trail a finger along the dampness that leaked from your core and left a damp trail along your panties before he pulled back.  After he returned to hovering over you, he pressed lightly against the cloth that covered your clit, almost flicking at it, and you jumped.  After jumping at that flick at your clit, your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a little yelp, and when you opened them Akira was already stripped down and slipping your own underwear off.

You sat up to get closer to him, to kiss him or…something you really weren’t sure, but all that did was give you a better view as Akira teased at your clit with his tongue and slipped a finger, and then two, into you.  _Fuck_ but did he love the way you cried out when he found that one spot that would have you crying out for more, for _him_.  He’d never been _this_ worked up before, he had been for _hours_ , and while he normally would have spent an _obscene_ amount of time teasing you into one orgasm after another he needed you, _now._

He pulled away, looking up at you and you looked just… _fuck_.

Your pupils dilated, your swollen lips parted as you continued to attempt at catching your breath, your hair was still in that stupid bun, but he’d fix that in a few seconds, your skin glowing in the moonlight-as cliché as that sounded.  He’d have to explain to Boss why you spent the night, and Boss wasn’t stupid enough to believe anything but the truth, but Akira couldn’t bring himself to worry about that now.  He couldn’t focus on anything other than _you_.

He moved to kiss you, and you were struck by how arousing it was to kiss him just after he had his mouth and tongue at your clit, and he gently tugged at the hair tie and pulled your long hair loose before tangling his hand in it.  You reached around to wrap your arms around him, your nails already digging at his back.  He growled as he kissed you, rolling his hips so the head of his swollen member rubbed up against your core and bumped at your clit.  Every bump at your oversensitive clit made you jump and whine as Akira laid you back down in his bed, pulling back so he could watch as you threw your head back and cried out as he, slowly, pushed into you.  You were hot, wet, and _oh so perfectly_ around him.  He was careful not to hurt you, moving slowly even as you tempted him to move faster, but you felt so _good_.  Better than he thought.

It was all better than you thought.  There was nothing romantic about it, it was an argument devolving into sex and you weren’t even _dating_ -barely even friends if you want to get technical about it-but it was _perfect_.  He moved in just the right ways, pushed you further and further to the orgasm that you didn’t realize was already _so close._

He was determined to make sure you climaxed, quickening the speed and ferocity of his thrusts as you scratched at his back and called his name along with ‘yes,’ ‘god,’ and a litany of other sounds that drove Akira, _mad_.  He pulled away from kissing you, attaching to your neck to deepen one of the marks he had already left on your neck as a hand delved between the two of you to start playing with your clit.  The mixture of sensations, Akira biting at your sensitive neck and playing with your swollen clit, tossed you right into ecstasy.

You didn’t cry out his name, or anything cliché like that, you just threw your head back and cried out as your body stiffened, you left more scratches down Akira’s back as you clung to him for purchase, and your orgasm caused you to clench down around Akira’s still throbbing member as you involuntarily thrust upwards towards him.  The stinging of the scratches you left behind, the way you tightened around him, that cry you let out, it was all too much to resist and Akira tumbled unto orgasm after you.  He stiffened against you, and yet melded so perfectly with you, as he instinctively thrust into you as deeply as he could and groaned deeply, and uncharacteristically _loud_ , as his own release flooded into you.

The two of you stayed like that for a minute, maybe two, before Akira pulled out of you with a groan and fell to the side of you.  You couldn’t remember which one of you pulled up the small blanket, which just _barely_ covered the both of you, but you couldn’t say you cared at the time.  You were tired and couldn’t even keep your eyes open.

You hadn’t slept that well in _months,_ and Akira hadn’t slept that well since he was arrested.  The two of you found a way to let off some steam and get some rest.  That was all that mattered…

For the moment…


End file.
